We got in a little before midnight and my friends dropped me off, backpack and all, at the bar I used to work at. That place had become like my second home, and walking back in there made me miss my old haunt and my old friends very much. I was lucky enough to bump into the Owner and a couple of the other bartenders I used to work with. After hanging out with them for a little while, my favorite of them, known for his distinct Bitchiness, said something along the lines of, "Your hair is WAY too long... It makes me want to just attack your head with a pair of scissors." Hmmm... Okay!
Before I knew it, the Owner of the bar was using the bar scissors to remove chunks of hair from my head. As the event progressed, it became increasingly clear that I was just going to have to shave it all. It was totally worth it. My hair is now shorter than I have EVER had it, and actually looks pretty good.
But I know few other people who have gotten their heads shaved at a bar. There's seriously no place like Milwaukee.
I then hung out until about 4:30 at the dance club, drinking and reconciling with a surprising friend from the past.
The weekend was full of all sorts of other fun and debauchery, and the 5 hour car ride both ways with the belching, farting girls was all sorts of fun. Interesting conversation about how love gets harder as we pass through relationships and lose the faith and naivety of youth. Later a comment by myself about art in France: "The Louvre is just like the Mall of America. But with Art." Glad Im so cultured.
Musical Fodder for my Writing:"Wake Me Up When September Ends" Green Day,
American Idiot
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